


Another Pound Of Flesh (I'm Not Sure I Have Left To Give)

by Cassicio



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Canon, Branding, F/F, Gen, Lexa didn't die but you all still might not like me for this, Self-Sacrifice, anyway titus never got ahold of a gun... or murphy I think, but I'm not burying ai heda, but that's not really important anyway, except lexa getting kill marks always has been something I think about, honestly idek where the hell this came from, just.... whatever this is post sex and clarke made it on time to meet octavia, kill scars, okay cool, so I guess it was a need, unlike someone did
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-18
Updated: 2016-04-18
Packaged: 2018-06-03 00:52:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6590032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cassicio/pseuds/Cassicio
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At least her lover had not been there to see this. Her payment to protect the woman’s undeserving people would not be another demon to flicker behind Clarke’s eyes and deepen the guilty burden on her shoulders.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Another Pound Of Flesh (I'm Not Sure I Have Left To Give)

Her screams had become more muffled against the strap gripped tightly between her teeth, each one leaving her throat rawer. Sweat dripped down her forehead, the heat of the fire used to turn each brand cherry red only causing more to roll over her limbs. Nails bit into the weathered, yet still supple grips wrapped tightly around each of her wrists. Another sharp burn made her back arch once more and she could swear the taste of blood was now thick in her throat, the gagged screams finally having torn it open from the inside. Still, she fought to shake her head and force continued consciousness. She’d demanded that they make sure she’s awake for each one and passing out would only give her a respite she did not deserve.

Another press and she could swear that, at this point, the brand had grown big enough to cover her entire back, as it seemed to burn everywhere. She’d lost track of how many burns had been placed, though she had heard disbelieving whispers about it pass through the crowd already, the people surrounding her voicing a mixture of awe and horror at the fact that she was still awake and enduring. The next placement rested at the base of her spine, forcing the loudest scream yet, one that not even the leather strap could muffle enough to stop it echoing around the arena. As the hot iron was pulled away, she slumped forward, left hanging limply by the grips pulled taunt to support her weight. More salt infused sweat pooled over the injury, stinging enough to keep the darkness from taking hold of her, despite the way it blackened every edge of her vision.

 

“Three hundred.”

 

The words sounded underwater to her, the sound of her blood rushing loud in her ears and muffling it. Still, she nodded her head up in understanding and weakly spat out the strap, signaling the end. Not that she did not necessarily deserve more, but the necessary blood had been paid for now. The blood she’d promised would not be spilled in retribution. Ragged breaths rattled her chest with each weak inhale as she continued to hang there, no one yet rushing to her aid. No one rushing to the side of the one person who had sacrificed everything for them. Who would continue to sacrifice herself, even when she knew it would never be enough. The hope for a peaceful life for their children sating none of their century fueled blood lust. For them it would always be _jus drein jus daun_ , so instead she’d given them yet another piece, even when it felt like there was truly nothing left to give. She would spill her blood in exchange for that spilled by Clarke’s people, if only to borrow a little more time to try and end the bloodshed all together.

At least her lover had not been there to see this. Her payment to protect the woman’s undeserving people would not be another demon to flicker behind Clarke’s eyes and deepen the guilty burden on her shoulders, for Clarke would’ve known it was all for her. The blockade the blonde had ridden ahead of that morning now acted as a barrier to keep the knowledge of the deed from her, as well as to keep her and the Arkers in.

Hanging so loosely by the very threads of consciousness, Lexa could not help but allow thoughts of the Skaikru Ambassador to drag her in further. Despite the situation, just the the flash of sky blue eyes on the back of her eyelids drew a tiny smile to the dry, cracked and bleeding lips of the exhausted girl on her knees. Memories of their last hours together soothed Lexa into total unconsciousness as warriors finally stepped forward to free their Commander and bring her to the nearest healer.

Let them take yet another pound of her flesh from her. She has a reason to endure all of this. The chance at something… A life that will one day truly be about more than just surviving.

**Author's Note:**

> Uh so yeah... idek where this came from. It's 6am and my brain decided to be like 'WRITE THIS SHORT PIECE OF SHIT NOW' even tho it hasn't given me inspiration to continue 'Shot Heard 'Round the World' in fucking forever. Or even that one fine stud Lexa fic I have in the works and mostly written... Tho that could be because I haven't written smut in ages.
> 
> ANYWAY, yeah um... She's not dead so.... A plus? I mean I'm not jrot, but I am the Angst Queen, so this kinda thing should be expected.
> 
> Comments and kudos are appreciated, even if you just wanna yell at my angsty idiot self.
> 
> Oh yeah and, if you wanna harass me for updates on SHRTW or give me prompts or whatever, feel free to poke at me on tumblr: skaiprisasheda


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